Captive
by Resa Aureus
Summary: SEQUEL TO PRISONER. Hermione is working as Transfiguration professor now at Hogwarts and finds that getting along with Snape is harder than it used to be. This is set prior to the Epilogue in Prisoner. If you haven't read Prisoner, good luck trying to understand this!
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape was grading papers in his chambers. The fireplace was crackling and blazing, but wasn't doing much to heat the room. Hogwarts was a drafty castle to begin with and on top of that he lived in the dungeons - not precisely a strategically warm living space. He barely noticed it, though.

Dumbledore, the silly old man, during his life had insisted on Severus moving his chambers many a time, only to receive harsh looks and verbal berating from the potion master. Now it was Minerva who picked up the torch and was always inquiring as to when he wanted to move his rooms. His answer: Never.

It was late and the fire was dying when flying in through the door - no warning, no knocking - was none other than his ex-student Hermione Granger. If it had been anyone else busting into his chambers like they owned the entire castle, they would be dust by now. But Hermione was a special case, in more ways that one.

"Severus!" she exclaimed gleefully, like she hadn't seen him more than a dozen times that day. Which she had. "What're you doing?"

Severus gave her one of his bluntest looks - not that Hermione took any notice. "I am grading papers, Granger, as should you be."

"I finished them," Hermione said with a shrug, dropping down in front of the fire. As always, her feet were absent of sheathing. Snape rolled his eyes, but could not suppress the smallest of grins. The girl never wore shoes - even when she was teaching class! It was nearing the end of her second official year as a professor and no one could convince her to use footwear.

Whenever someone asked, she'd always just say, "I left every last one of them with a friend I knew would take care of them. Unfortunate, isn't it?" But she didn't seem to think it was unfortunate at all, actually. That smile on her face said otherwise.

"All of them?" Snape asked skeptically. He put down his quill and turned his chair to face the rug Hermione sat one. "Or did you simply give them all perfect scores?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said indignantly. She was acting insulted, but Severus knew for sure she had done just that on many occasion. "I read through them all and gave appropriate markings."

"Good girl," he mumbled, turning back to his desk. Next thing he knew a slim shadow was slanting across the page he was reading. "Are you in need of anything, Miss Granger?"

"Actually, yes," she said. "I am in need of you to stop calling me by my surname. Before a year ago, you always called me Hermione. What changed?"

"You ended your apprenticeship. We are professionals," he said dismissively, the way he did when she began speaking nonsense. "Being professors, there is a certain decorum -"

"You call everyone by their first names. Minerva," she cut in. "And Poppy. And Filius. Hell, Neville even got you to call him by his first name." The hurt was definitely there in her voice. "I thought...well, I thought we were friends."

"We are colleagues," he said, trying to sound as detached and uninterested as possible. He continued looking over the paper in his hand and was randomly underlining sentences. In reality, he wasn't paying attention to anything the words read at all. How could he when Hermione was standing so damn close? "A 'friendship' would be inappropriate, wouldn't it?"

"But...you've been my friend for years," she continued, her voice quieter. "I didn't think that working here would change that."

"Then, I'm afraid, Granger, you were wrong," Snape said, plucking a random failing score from his head and decorating the page with it. Whoever Carlisle Wimble was, he was going to be very upset with his grade. "While the occurence of your being wrong, I'm sure, shocks you, it is true nonetheless."

There was a long silence from Hermione. Eventually she shrugged and said, "Okay. Well, I'll just go write my resignation letter now." She began walking towards the door.

"What?" Severus demanded.

Hermione turned, a perfectly innocent look on her face. "I'm going to resign."

"Why?" Severus asked firmly, standing from his chair.

"You said that if we're colleagues, we can't be friends," Hermione explained like it should have been obvious. "So, I'm going to quit. That way we can be friends again."

"Miss Granger, I wasn't offering you an ultimatum -"

"I know," she said with a nod. "But it's the situation, isn't it? What's the point in working here if the only person I care about in this whole school - maybe the world - won't even be friends with me?" She opened the door and was halfway out.

Now Severus felt guilty - which was a difficult thing to make him feel. He was usually remorseless and cold, but this damned girl make him feel bad. It was an infuriating feeling.

"Don't be daft," Severus said with venom, stopping her in her tracks. "Get back in here, this minute, Miss Granger, or so help me, I'll drag you back myself."

Hermione crossed her arms. "No."

"What did you just say?" he commanded with silky danger in his tone.

"I said 'no'. If we're not friends, there's no reason for me to be in your chambers. And I have some pressing matters to attend to. Minerva will have to find someone to fill the Transfiguration post for next year and if would be rude of me not to give her enough time to do so." Hermione, arms still stubbornly crossed, walked out of the room.

But Severus was close in her wake. "You stupid girl," he growled. "You can't just quit your job. It would be foolish and dim of you. It's not as if our friendship is worth your career -"

"But it is!" Hermione snapped, tossing her arms into the air in frustration. "Don't you get it? Our friendship means the world to me!" Then she looked straight into his eyes and he saw the hurt there. "But you've made it painfully clear that you don't feel the same way. So...I'll still resign. That way you won't have to deal with me anymore." She shook her head as he eyes started to sting. "I always knew I was a nuisance. I'm...sorry."

She began to walk away but immediately felt the tug someone snatching the back of her jumper.

"You are the stupidest intelligent person I have ever met," Severus said dryly and spun her to face him again. "Your friendship is valuable to me as well, but I fear our contact may be perceived as inappropriate to those who are not aware of our situation, especially now that you too are a professional."

"So..." Hermione was putting the pieces together. "You think that everyone else will think that you and I are...intimate."

"Not just 'everyone'," he said. "Students. And if students were to be suspicious and write their parents, there would be complaints. While my position is secured, you are new and less so. If one kid wrote his parents that he sees his professors coming and going from each other's offices and chambers, they would blame you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you just say so in the first place? Your concern is pointless, all of that is my responsability - not yours."

"I did not say it," Severus said through tight lips, "because I knew you would say that."

"It's true, Severus," Hermione went on. "Stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself."

"No," he said tersely, "you _cannot_. You are too generous, too flexible, and too fragile. Therefore, you cannot take care of yourself."

"What qualifies you to take care of me, then?" Hermione said, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. He was being so...ugh! One second he was acting like he didn't like her and the next he was acting as if he was in charge of her.

Their relationship had been rocky like this for a while. Severus Snape lost his patience more often and would become distant, and then out of nowhere be all fatherly and dictating before retreating back into his little "Snape Corner" as Hermione called it - that place he went that meant no one was allowed near and meant he wouldn't care if you said you were contemplating leaping from the Astronomy Tower.

"Who _is_ qualified to take care of you, if not me?" he shot back. "Was I not the one who stayed with you in the hospital, day after day? Was it not me who visited you constantly just to make sure you were safe and healthy?"

"I'm better now! I don't need your protection! I'm a grown woman, Severus - I'm _twenty-one_ years old for Merlin's sake!"

"I refuse to argue with you anymore," Severus said, turning on his heels to march back towards his rooms. "You say you're a woman and you act like a child. And I have no time for children."

"NO TIME FOR _CHILDREN_?" Hermione exploded. "YOU'RE A BLOODY _SCHOOL TEACHER_!"

But he barely took notice as he swung the door shut, locking it twice.

...~oOo~...

Hermione had her advanced Seventh Years the next day and changed the course direction rather abruptly. The subject was written in large chalk letters as he class flowed in. She sat on top of her desk, her bare feet swinging and her teacher robes unbuttoned to reveal a grey skirt and white shirt underneath. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail.

The students of Hogwarts loved their Transfiguration professor. She was fun and loud and a bit off kilter - but in a good way. She often found ways to make lessons amusing, but in the same stroke was a stickler for specific rules. She did not tolerate any sort of taunting or bullying and wasn't afraid to empty every since last point from any House.

Today her students all sat down and looked at the board in confusion.

"Um, Professor?" one boy asked. His name was Jeremy and he was on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. "Why does the board say 'Human Transformation'? I thought we were going to be going into detail about how Alchemy correlates with Transfiguration?"

"That was, indeed, the original plan, Mr. Hemingway. But I felt today needed a change of pace. Good news for all of you, you're note-taking supplies will not be needed for a while yet." She hopped down from her desk.

There was the sound of surprise and relief and students closed their notebooks.

"Today I am going to lecture you all on a form of Transfiguration that has nothing to do with potions or wands. It has to do with a kind of magic that no one can contain or manipulate. This is the power of _altered personalities_." Hermione said, writing the two words in the board with loud, hard strokes of chalk.

She looked back to her students. They looked confused. "A change in personality can be brought on by a number of things," she went on, pacing as she did. "A specific event, or something of equal influence. But for some reason, unbeknownst to you or me, this changes a person. But the most wondrous form of this is when _nothing happens at all and yet people continue to bloody change_!"

The Seventh Years looked a little stunned by her outburst. Hermione collected herself quickly. "Is this just the course of nature or, perhaps, it is 'anti-nature' in which man makes it happen as opposed to the earth, but I digress. How many of you have had a friend who suddenly, out of nowhere seemed to became...well, for lack of a word...a right arse."

The kids chuckled but plenty raised their hands.

"How many of the people raising their hands kind of had the inkling that they were arses to begin with, but felt like for some reason one day they just got worse?"

A few hands went down, but five or six were still up.

"Well, I have news for you. You were all fools," Hermione said, making some more of the kids snicker. "And as was I. Because I had a friend who was a git I thought he was different and then he wasn't. So shame on us!" Hermione huffed and dragged her knuckles across her eyes to staunch the tears from coming on again.

"And that," Hermione said with a conclusive tone, "is the strangest transformation of all. The illusion of change when realistically _nothing_ has changed at all - only our perception."

A lot of the kids were nodding, intrigued, but others looked confused.

Hermione shrugged. "Don't tell anyone I never taught you anything you'd use in real life. Now open your books to page 496."

...~oOo~...

It was dinner and Hermione was sitting at the Head Table, her assigned seat beside Severus, but neither of them were saying a word to the other.

One student, her name was Pamela, walked up with her Transfiguration professor with a smile. "I just wanted to say that I loved your lesson today, Professor Granger," she said with a broad smile. "It isn't every day that a teacher can really relate with their students and teach them something that everyone can relate to and understand. Not every professor knows how to do life lessons as well as academic ones."

"Thank you, Miss Baumgardner," Hermione said with a small, tired smile. "I appreciate that. Perhaps I will tie in some more advice during class."

"Everyone would love it if you did," Pamela said, still beaming. "See you next class, Professor!" And the Hufflepuff girl was practically skipping away.

There was a long silence of just eating until Severus asked, "What lesson was she speaking of?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said with faux cheer. "Nothing you would understand, anyway."

"I very highly doubt there is anything you could teach that I wouldn't understand," he said with a scowl.

"I simply taught the children how to choose their companions carefully," Hermione said casually. "Because some people, no matter how we perceive them, don't - can't - change."

"Oh dear Lord," Severus said in exasperation. "You taught a lesson about our disagreement?"

"Well, aren't you conceited! Not everything's about you, you know!" Hermione said, sticking her nose in the air.

He ignored her comment. "I have no objections to planting cynicism in the younger generations," he grumbled, "but I would prefer you not use our personal life as an example."

"What 'personal life'?" she demanded quietly so that their neighbors at the Head Table and the Houses couldn't hear. "We don't have a 'personal life' because you are on obstinate git who insists on making everything a thousand times more difficult than it needs to be."

"While I'm supposedly over-complicating, you trivialize," he hissed back. "You take everything with a grain of salt and..." He humphed. "Never mind. It's pointless. You're so stubborn -"

"I'm stubborn? Me?" Her eyes were huge. "You're the pigheaded one!"

"Granger -"

She shot him a look that cut him off on its own. "Call me 'Granger' one more time, I swear to Merlin -"

"Granger."

Hermione abruptly stood up, kicked Severus's chair with enough force to nudge it over, and made a growling, exasperated sound of frustration. By then the entire Great Hall was looking at her.

Grumbling unintelligibly, Hermione marched around the Head Table, gesticulating wildly in her anger, before leaving the Great Hall, the doors slamming shut behind her.

Severus Snape massaged his temples. He must have done something terrible in a past life to ever deserve getting involved with Hermione Granger.

...~oOo~...

Hermione was back in her own chamber and was throwing stuff. Small things like trinkets and picture frames and a stupid pair of shoes that Ron got her for her birthday. She threw books and garment hangers and tossed her files up in the air, letting the parchments crash into the ceiling and explode, raining down on the room.

By the end of it, her rooms were a mess.

She made a mental note to clean up before a house elf could get to it.

That didn't stop her from destroying more stuff.

"YOU STUPID, STUPID, STUPID GIRL!" she screamed at herself. "ARE YOU A GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT OR SOMETHING?"

"Yes, we are," a voice identical to her own said to her right. Hermione turned and found an identical manifestation to herself, only this hallucination was wearing a dark green dress with a square neckline and A-line skirt. She recognized it as the dress she wore to George and Luna's wedding those years ago.

"After all," Hallucination Hermione went on, "why else would we love both Bill Weasley and Severus Snape?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Bill had nothing to do with our...parting. That was all my fault. Anyway, what the hell are you talking about 'loving' Severus? I love him, sure, but not the same way as Bill. Bill was..." She broke off and shook her head, trying to shake away the pang of pain in her chest.

"Are you sure?" Hallucination Hermione asked. "Because I think you're lying to yourself. You love Severus, the same way you loved Bill. But maybe...a little different."

"Bill was my perfect pairing," Hermione said in exhaustion, dropping down into an arm chair whose cushions lie across the room where she'd thrown them. "And I ruined that. I had to, though. But I know now I'm just meant to be alone."

Her hallucination shook its head. "You're wrong. At the time you were meant to be alone. You were too broken, too hurt. But you've healed, haven't you? You're heart and mind are finally in a state that can learn to love someone, in a healthy way."

"Healthy? Healed?" Hermione snorted. "I'm sorry, but may I remind you that you're a hallucination? Healthy people do not have hallucinations."

"That may be so," her imaginary self said with a shrug. "But Severus understands. He's knows you and know know him. Our soul mates almost always start as best friends."

"Severus would hate me," Hermione said softly. "If I told him that...if I told him I care. He'd absolutely freak out. He'd go on about how inappropriate and improper and wrong it was. He's so old-fashioned and the age gap would give him a heart-attack."

The hallucination laughed. "You really do know him, don't you?"

"So do you!" Hermione huffed back. "You're me! We are we! You know him as well as I do, because _you are me_!"

"That's the kind of talk that gets you sent back to the crazy wing at St. Mungo's," the Other Hermione said.

"_Again_," Hermione said, louder. "_You are a hallucination_. The fact that you kind-of exist is enough to send me back to the hospital - my psycho babbling's got nothing to do with it! Just...go away. Please? I'm tired. And frustrated. And lonely."

"Maybe I could conjure up Hallucination Snape," the figment said. "You haven't talked to him in a while."

"Nah," Hermione said with a grimace. "He's just say all the things Real Snape would say and that's kind of what I'm trying to avoid right now."

"How about Hallucination Ron?"

"No."

"Hallucination Harry?"

"If you brought around Hallucination Harry," Hermione said with glower, "he'd just go on and on about Draco, and really, anything lovey dovey right now is going to make me sick. Although...maybe Hallucination Draco wouldn't be such a bad idea right now. I could use his sarcasm and general dislike for everything."

Hallucination Hermione grinned. "Alright. I'll go get him." And she disappeared.

A few minutes later there was a knocking on the door and Hermione stood up to answer it. Standing there, in the doorway was the tall, blonde Syltherin.

"Hello, Hallucination Draco, come on in," Hermione said, opening the door wide enough for him to enter.

The figment of her imagination looked confused. "Hallucination...? Hermione, it's really Draco."

"Ha ha," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "That's what you always say. It's a stupid prank, you know."

"Are you saying that the Hallucination-me is a jerk?" Draco asked, brow furrowed. "That's kind of harsh."

Something wasn't...quite right. Hermione slowly reached out to run her hand through the manifestation, but came into contact with a hard, warm, breathing chest. Just to be such she jabbed him hard in the chest with her index finger.

He said, "Ow."

"Oh," Hermione said, bewildered. "You're Real."

"Indeed I am," Draco drawled, rubbing the sore spot on his chest. "Sorry to disappoint. Were you expecting my hallucination?"

"Actually...yes."

"Then how convienient," he said. "Because now you've got the real deal. So. Snape wrote me while I was at work that you've lost your mind more than usual." He dropped down into a chair in the living space, observing his surrounding with reproach. Who could blame him? There was stuff everywhere. Noticing that the cushion under him was gone, he traversed across the room to fetch it. "So, what gives?"

Hermione crossed her arms, even angrier. Snape was meddling, acting like he was her father, again. "Snape is the one being an arse, talk to him."

"It's you I'm talking to, though. I'm much too lazy to go all the way down to the dungeons to talk to him when I'm already here. Make it quick, I've got things I need to do. I'm meeting Harry for dinner and I would far rather be eating with my husband than listening to you complain about my godfather."

Hermione began to ramble about their argument the night before and about how he was being stupid and stubborn and mean. By the end of it, she was pacing holes into her floor and had a red face.

By the end of it, Draco had checked his watch five times. "So if I understand correctly, you and him are angry with one another because you have truck loads of suppressed feelings for the other?"

Hermione stopped and stared at him. "That's not what I said at all."

"You didn't need to."

"Are you sure you're not a hallucination?"

"Harry would be very upset if I was."

"But..._I'm not supressing anything_!"

"You could fuel an angry mob with the amount of feelings you're supressing."

Hermione groaned, "Ugh! I am not!"

"Coming from the man who fought off the feelings he had for the same boy for almost a decade...I'd say I know how to spot the symptoms."

"Oh, please," Hermione huffed. "As if you deserve credit for finally admitting you loved Harry. Need I remind you that _I'm_ the one who pushed you to get over yourself and kiss the boy?"

"Fair enough," Draco granted with a barely-there shrug. "But allow me to give you some advice in turn for leading me to be with the love of my life."

"I don't want your advice."

"Yes, well, I'm going to give it anyway and you're going to listen. I have known Severus Snape since I was born - literally. And if there's one thing I've learned about him, it's that he's deadset in his ways, doesn't give a fuck what anyone else feels or thinks, and has a conscience so active that a herd of raging Hippogriffs couldn't threaten him to stray from his morals. So, if you have feelings for him - which don't deny it, I know you do - you need to...well..."

"You're going to say 'get over it', aren't you?" Hermione guessed, her hear sinking.

Slowly, Draco nodded. "Yes. And I hate that I can't give you that happy ever after you gave me, but Snape is just...Snape. It would be impossible. Perhaps you could write that Bill Weasley again?"

"He...he's engaged," Hermione said, a thick wall of sadness forming in her throat. "Molly told me. To an Egyptian girl. I don't want to intrude on his happiness."

Draco nodded in understanding. "I guess...a lot happens in three years."

"Yeah, it does," Hermione said quietly, the backs of her eyes stinging. "But...would you believe me if I said I still missed him like crazy?"

"Oh, I'd believe you," Draco said. "I'd definitely believe you."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N. Okay, so for those of you who read Prisoner (hopefully most of you), you probably know I got a lot of questions as to how Hermione and Snape could have gone from being very close father-daughter-ish to getting married. I often told you that in the story's timeline, obviously, we weren't there to see how their feelings changed, but that apparently things DID change.

So this story is the change. It is set prior to the epilogue and will most likely be a lot like a series of one-shots. That way all of you can see what I mean by "things change".

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

...~oOo~...

It was about three days later that Pamela Baumgardner lingered in potion's class after dismissal. The girl had long light brown hair that she kept in two pig tails that laid on her shoulders and often dipped into her cauldron, much to Snape's frustration.

"Miss Baumgardner," Snape said from his desk, sneering. "I would thank you to stop dallying and leave my classroom."

"I actually wanted to ask you a question, Professor," she said in that friendly, happy voice of hers. The voice of someone whose never seen death or war.

Snape sighed. "Make it quick."

"Did you break up with Professor Granger?" she asked, her head cocking to the side in curiosity and her pigtails shifting.

Severus Snape froze. A bold one, she was. "Excuse me?" he intoned, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you two were together, weren't you -"

"We were not," he quickly sliced into her sentence. "Even more than your insufficient observations, has it occured to you that your inquiry is inappropriate and none of your business?"

Pamela looked at her feet shyly for a moment before saying, "It might be inappropriate...but I do think it's my business if my favorite professor is so sad now."

Snape considered this. "Professor Granger is... 'sad'?"

Pamela nodded. "She's just not the same. She's been pacing a lot. And muttering to herself more than usual. And she doesn't smile as much. It's really...depressing. And the other day she had the chance to take points from Slytherin and...well, she didn't."

Snape supressed a wry smile at this. If she denied the chance to take points from Slytherin, there was something wrong indeed.

"So, did you two break up?" Pamela went on.

"I told you, we were not -"

"Yeah, you said that," Pamela said, "but I don't think I believe you. And the fact that you aren't berating at me and kicking me out of the classroom indicates that you're not quite yourself either. So...could you at least talk to her? Even if you broke up with her -"

"Why exactly do you assume I would be the one to 'break up' with _her_?" Snape asked curiously.

"Because," Pamela said, "the way she looks at you...she loves you too much." Pamela gave her professor a small smile. "I hope you at least consider going to talk to her. I think she'd really appreciate it. Good day, Professor Snape." And she strolled out of the classroom, a spring in her step.

And Severus was left in his classroom to think. But he didn't have long to think because next thing he knew an owl was swooping in a dropping a letter on his desk.

...~oOo~...

Hermione played a game when she was grading papers. Every time a student got a C, she ate a jelly bean. Every time someone received a B, she took a bite of pudding. And every time someone got an A, she opened a chocolate frog and a perfect score called for licorice wand and a swig of butterbeer. It was a system she was using for more than two years, right when her apprenticeship started.

She was just about to award herself with a spoonful of pudding when her door flew open with a bang and she jumped, the spoon jostling and the pudding landing on her shirt. "Oh no!" she grumbled down at her blouse with a sigh.

"Yes, 'oh no'," a very low, irritated voice growled from the doorway. The heavy footsteps drew closer. "You are in _so much trouble_."

"What did I do now?" Hermione asked with a grimace at Severus. She went back to rubbing at her shirt with a napkin. It was only making it worse, but then she remembered that that was what magic was for. She picked up her wand and prepared to scourgify it.

"I just received a very interesting letter from Potter."

"It's Malfoy now," Hermione reminded him with a roll of her eyes. "It's only been two and a half years now, yeesh."

"That is irrelevent. Apparently Draco told him that a certain someone has been having hallucinations again." His glare was deadly.

"_Draco_," Hermione hissed under her breath as if his name was an expletive. "That _snake_."

"Don't blame him," Snape cut in with venom so strong it filled the air. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to need an update," Hermione with with mock-confusion. "Are we currently talking, or aren't we?"

"I don't have time for your petty spite right now, Hermione, I'm trying to understand why it is that you don't tell me when you start seeing things."

The brunette with the frizzy hair blinked owlishly. Then she visibly tried stopping a smile from coming to her face, but she couldn't manage it.

"What are you smiling about?" Snape growled, losing his patience.

"You just called me Hermione," she said with a wide smile, now. "For the first time in a year."

Did I? he thought, thinking back. Hm. I suppose I did. "That is off-point."

"I think it's really _on_-point."

"Why do you insist on being infuriating?"

"Why do you insist on being an obstinate arse?" she said, her face a mask of cold fury. "Do you listen or do you just talk? Because, frankly, I'm getting sick of you and the way you treat me. Your mood towards me sways towards whether you find me convenient in that moment. Whether it's worth the time to scold me or not. I am tired of just being a silly child that seems to bother you. So, here is my final decision. I've realized that I don't _want _to be your friend anymore - because, honestly it really isn't a friendship at all! It's a bloody dictatorship! Farewell, Professor Snape, because I'm done! Now please leave my office. Wouldn't want a student seeing you here," she sniffed, leaning forward and lifting her quill again, putting on an air of indifference. "It would be bad for my reputation."

Snape stood there in shock for a long minute. He gave an incredulous scoff and said, "You can't dismiss me."

"I believe," Hermione said with a mere glance up from her paper, "I just did."

Something inside Severus Snape snapped. He marched right up to her desk and smacked his hands down onto it to lean forward and demand her attention.

"Now you listen to me, Hermione Granger," he growled. "Everything I've done in the last few years of my life I've done with you in my mind - mostly because you refused to get the hell out of it. Everything I've said and every time I demand to know what's happening in your head is _out_ _of concern for you_. Concern that I obviously wasted because you, again, refuse to realize I am _trying_ to bloody help you. I've dedicated three years of my life that I was supposed to be enjoying the only freedom I've had in more than two decades to you, mostly because you've held my attention captive. So, _no_, Miss Granger, you do not have any right to _dismiss me_."

Hermione looked up at Severus coldly. "Stop acting as if you care. Because if you did, you'd just..." Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

"_Just what_?" he snarled.

"Actually, I don't know what you'd do if you cared because you don't care about anything, do you?" she snapped back, rising from her chair angrily. She threw down her quill and furiously shucked off her teacher robes to throw onto the chair. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."

Snape was face to face with her in a half-second. She hadn't even seen him move to around the desk. His face was wrathful. "You're accusing me of not caring? Are you saying that the days I spent at your bedside were because being there somehow benefitted me? How about when I allowed you to stay with me after to quit Gringotts and left Weasley's cottage? Or maybe you're forgetting that I continue to brew your potions for you because your Gryffindor courage isn't enough to get you back to the hospital for them?"

He was stalked closer and closer so much that Hermione had to take steps backward as he moved forward. "Therefore, despite your stupid and wrong observations, as it turns out," he snapped, "I _do _care."

_Not in the way I want you to_, she thought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

That's when Hermione realized she'd said that out loud. She clapped a hand over her mouth in shock and then swallowed, clearing her throat. "Nothing, it means nothing."

Then her head started filling with whispers. Quiet words she couldn't make out yet, but it was starting. She was about to have a break. Oh, Merlin, she thought, rubbing her temples.

"Severus...please go," Hermione said.

"No," he sneered.

"Please. Please go, Severus." She was begging now and pressed both hands over her ears, trying to suffocate the voices, but it was no use. They were all on her head. She backed away from him further and suddenly she just wanted to be far away from him.

Then Severus realized what was happening. "Hermione -"

"JUST GO!" she erupted, her hands tightening over her head. She dropped her hands and then screamed, "CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I DON'T WANT YOU HERE?"

Something hit Severus in the chest right then. Not an actual thing, but a feeling. And it made him angrier. "Fine," he barked. And he marched out of the room.

When he was back in his chambers, Snape paced, trying to ease out all the anger that was taut through him. When the pacing didn't work, he lost it. Picked up a little orb he kept on a shelf in his room - a glass, non-magical item - and launched it into the wall. The thing didn't break.

He groaned loudly in frustration and threw himself down into his favorite arm chair. He tipped his head back into the cushion and closed his eyes. Letting out a deep breath, he realized how stupid he was.

Severus Snape wasn't like other men. When he felt something, he couldn't just reach for it. No. Whenever he felt something unrecognizable or strange, he pushed it away and locked it up. It's what he had to do as a spy.

And that feeling that hit his chest in Hermione's office. It had been hurt.

And the fact that Hermione held enough power over him to hurt him...was very telling. There was only one other person who ever managed to make him feel like that.

And that person had died a long time ago because she'd been unfortunate enough to mother the Chosen One.

"Oh, no," he said to himself, his eyes falling shut again. "Not this again."

...~oOo~...

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	3. Chapter 3

A/N. I apologize from the very bottom of my heart for the large gap between updates. As most of you know, i became very consumed with The Last Marauder and was determined to complete it. And now that it's gone (an extremely sad turn in my life), I found myself eager to return to the "Prisoner"-verse.

As a reminder, this "sequel" to Prisoner is in actuality a sort of collection of one-shots and two-shots - basically. short stories highlighting Severus and Hermione's life together after the Bill-isode. (I miss Bill. I really do. I was in love with him more than Hermione was.)

So, really, this story will be a manifold of stories, all strung together chronologically and explaining how Severus and Hermione went from caretaker and "child" to lovers to man and wife.

...~oOo~...

It took many months before Severus and Hermione apologized to one another, and it was brought about in the manner of a disappointed parent forcing two naughty children to quit fighting and start sharing their toys,

Needless to say, McGonagall was playing the role as parent.

It was a very mellow early evening where she was doing her best to untangle Crookshanks's monstrous knots when McGonagall appeared in her chambers' fireplace in a flurry of emerald flames.

All she said was, "There will be a meeting in my office in precisely five minutes. It is mandatory." And then she ducked back under the mantle and exploded in green again, leaving behind only ash.

Hermione, a little shellshocked, blinked before looking at her cat an inquiring, "Do you have any clue what this is about?"

Crookshanks's smushed face appraised her disdainfully - probably because of all the pulling and yanking of knots in his fur - and Hermione sighed. "I thought not. Are you okay to be alone for a little while?"

Crookshanks continued to stare and flick his tail irritably.

"I'll take that as a yes and go." Hermione stood from her chair and gave her cat a treat before walked towards the fireplace. "It sounds urgent, but I hope it isn't tragic, don't you, Crooks?"

The cat mewled and jumped from his perch to find a cozy area to curl up in.

Cats were peculiar creatures, Hermione reflected before seizing a handful of Floo Powder and tossing it to her feet. Next thing she knew, she was tumbling into the Headmistress's office, rather unsteadily. Traveling by Floo was a tenfold better than Apparating, but Hermione still preferred good, old-fashioned walking.

Truly, what was so difficult about a light stroll? What was all this nonsense with dramatic, flamey entrances and cryptic invitations to rendezvous before abrupt departures?

What happened to knocking on doors or sending letters or picking up a bloody telephone?

While all these things ran through Hermione's head as she righted herself and dusted herself off, she really did not take notice to the other occupants of the office until she heard the familiar, deep drawl that said, "Minerva, you have the cunning of a Slyhterin." And, even for the Head of House, it did not sound like a compliment.

Hermione shot ram-rod straight and looked over at Severus, standing in front of McGonagall's desk, his arms crossed and looking displeased.

"It was hardly a thought-out scheme, Severus," McGonagall said shortly. "If anything, I was quite forward. Why else would I pop into your chambers without announcement with such an odd request? Surely your skills of deduction should have at the very least tipped you off."

Hermione's eyes were big, drinking in the situation, and suddenly she felt like the student who'd planted stink bombs in the potion master's classroom the day before so that class was cancelled...

Wait. That had actually happened the day before. Hmm. Hermione really had to figure out how to be more subtle about her attempts at revenge if she was found out so easily.

Turning on her heels, Hermione made a beeline back towards the fireplace, but she found herself hitting into an invisible wall.

"Hermione Granger, you still stop acting like a child and come over here this instant!" McGonagall commanded.

With the shameful air of a puppy who piddled on the new carpet, she sighed and dragged her feet over to the seats in front of the Headmistress's desk and dropped down into one. Severus remained standing and the both of them avoided eye contact.

"It has been three and a half months since the two of you exchanged anything more than dirty looks and deliberate avoidance," McGonagall said in the clipped tone of her. "Frankly, it is unacceptable for two adult colleagues to act this way, even more so when you were friends beforehand. Normally, I would say it wasn't my place nor my business -"

"Which it isn't," Severus hissed, his voice seeping with venom.

"- but the problem is that students are starting to notice. And animosity between teachers should be private and unseen by students," McGonagall. "It's just unprofessional. But unfortunately, because of your previous friendship, the drastic change in mood has caught the attention of plenty of pupils. The Ravenclaws saw it from the beginning, followed closely by Hufflepuffs, then by the Gryffindors, and ultimately the Slytherin could not care less.

"So, to quote Muggle youth... 'what gives'?"

Hermione stifled a snort at the sound of Minerva using such a phrase, but figured it was an inappropriate time to be laughing - especially when Severus looked murderous and McGonagall looked annoyed.

"Minerva," Severus said before Hermione could decrease the odds of ever escaping the blasted office, "Miss Granger and I have simply developed some... disagreements that have prevented our amiability to progress. And as you put so nicely yourself, the details of said disagreements are none of your business."

Hermione's face scrunched in distaste. "To put it simply, he's being a git and I've had it."

Severus rolled his eyes and McGonagall said, "Care to expand on his... being a git?"

"First, he didn't want to be friends anymore because he thought all the kids would think he were shagging or some nonsense, and then he got all ruffled because I taught my students that people are stupid, and then I didn't want to be friends with him because he was being... well... Severus, and then he acted as if I had no right to call off the friendship, and then we had an explosion because he didn't know I was hallucinating again."

There was a drawn out silence where each of them observed the coarse of events.

"I have heard," McGonagall said slowly, "better excuses for fighting from First Years." Her cold gaze landed on Severus. "Is everything Hermione said true?"

"Essentially, yes," Severus said dryly. "Leaving out a few details, of course, but accurate nonetheless."

"Firstly, you both need to quit all the back-and-forth about your friendship," McGonagall said. "You've been through hell and back, the both of you, and came out of it because of each other - those kind of bonds are not to be trivialized and it would be a shame to break them - especially over something so petty. Second, Hermione, teaching your students that 'people are stupid' may just be the most counterproductive lesson to instill in them. Third, Hermione, you were also wrong for not revealing that you are hallucinating again."

Severus looked triumphant on the last count.

"At least Poppy, dear," McGonagall said, softer then. "I understand why you wouldn't have wanted to tell Severus, but you should have told anyone - right away."

Hermione sighed and her shoulders fell. "They kept me company, okay?"

With a gentle look in her eyes, McGonagall nodded. "I understand, but my point remains. And you, Severus... I dare say this entire problem is your fault."

"Mine?" Severus growled.

"The argument started because of you, did it not?" McGonagall inquired, perfectly calm.

"If she hadn't been so damned difficult -"

"I am sure," McGonagall cut him off sternly, "that she could say the same of you. Now, the both of you will apologize and get over yourselves."

Sirius and Hermione exchanged hesitant glances, before taking on the same scowl and turning back to McGonagall.

"Do we have to?" Hermione said with a half-groan. She wasn't whining, just sounding very reluctant.

"I wouldn't have called you here if it wasn't necessary," the Headmistress told them.

With a deep breath, Severus turned to Hermione and said through clenched teeth, "My apologies."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly, her eyes on his feet rather than his face.

"Now, your feud is over," McGonagall declared. "Don't think for a second that if you leave this room, this ridiculous argument will be continuing, because it won't. I've instructed a house-elf to bring tea to your chambers, Severus, that I believe should be shared with a friend you've reconciled with."

With a sneer, Severus said sarcastically, "How thoughtful of you, Minerva."

...~oOo~...

It was awkward at first. Very awkward, indeed. They sat across from one another in his chambers, in front of the fireplace, and sipping their tea. Neither said anything - this was not unusual of Severus, but very unusual about Hermione.

Finally, after they were both almost to the bottom of their teacups, Hermione said, "I really am sorry. I mean that."

"I appreciate your apology," Severus said.

Hermione stared at him expectantly.

Severus sighed. "And I suppose... that I have reasons to be apologizing as well."

Hermione gave a small smile.

"But I still think everything I said and did was justified," Severus finished with confidence.

"Hey! That is not a proper apology!"

"Perhaps it isn't, but it's true."

"Alright, Mr. I Do No Wrong, explain to me why everything you did was justified but not anything I did." Hermione crossed her arms and sat back, waiting.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record," Severus grumbled, "ever since your... accident... I've protected you, haven't I? I've taken care of you. I've monitored your... illness, and made your potions. Everything I've done... has been to assure your safety."

"So all the 'we can't be friends' and 'you should have told me you're hallucinating'... was just your way of saying that you cared?"

Severus sighed heavily. "Yes, just as I've said a dozen times before."

"But... why?" Hermione inquired, brow furrowed. "You never needed to do any of it - even just after my accident, you had no obligations towards me."

"As if you gave me a bloody choice."

"That's not an answer," Hermione said firmly. "Tell me why you take care of me."

There was a length of silence, where Hermione was afraid that perhaps she was too demanding and angered him. But then, Severus didn't look upset, just... pensive. What she wouldn't do to be in his head just then.

Slowly, Severus said, "My... motivations for acting the way I do... are personal. Someday you might know, but today is not that day, Hermione." His words were no malicious or snide, but actually careful and honest, with an unspoken promise in them.

Standing from her seat, and setting her cup down, she crossed the small area and wrapped her arms around the sitting Snape, effectively placing herself in his lap like a toddler. Burrowing her face into his neck and holding tight, she didn't even care when his hands were hesitant to hold her back. Because she needed the closeness, the warmth, his scent.

"I missed you," Hermione said thickly.

Reluctantly, he replied, "And I you. After all, what would my life be without your barging through my door uninvited or screaming about your potions?"

"A boring life, indeed," Hermione said with a chuckle into his hair. "What ever did you do before you had me?"

_Pined over a woman who is dead and gone and who never loved me and wallow in self pity, _Severus thought, but kept his mouth closed.

Hermione didn't only become and addition to his life - she became her own segment altogether. She gave him a reason to be whatever amount of happy Severus was capable of. She made him realize that rebirth after tragedy was okay - to move on wasn't forgetting, just growing and honoring the lost's memories.

Severus gently stroked Hermione's back, tentatively, as Hermione finished squeezing him.

"You're my best friend," she told him.

"You are mine," Severus admitted. _But you're also so much more._

...~oOo~...

A/N. Alright, guys, this is the end of the first part of Severus and Hermione's "growth" - the next part will display another change in their feelings. Right now, Hermione is aware of her feelings of Severus and Severus realizes that Hermione has to ability to hurt him, something that only Lily was ever capable of so he's in the process of becoming "aware" as well.

Challenge: 1. Favorite part and line? 2. What do you think will happen next? 3. What would you like to see?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N. Here's the next part of Severus and Hermione's "change". A little review from Prisoner. In the epilogue, Hermione was presumed to be in her last thirties, so let's assume 37-38. She was eighteen during Prisoner. We've gone forward 3 years to start this story, so she is about 22.

The math says that their son Silas was born when she was about 26, so this story will cover the coarse of 4 years, which is why it will be done in the form of "short stories that make up a big story".

Song for this chapter is After the Storm by Mumford and Sons, and this song is relevant once Hermione is in the bath tub and on.

...~oOo~...

"WOOOOHOOOO! YES, GO TOMMY! GERTIE, WATCH OUT FOR THE BLUDGER!"

Severus winced as Hermione hollered, her voice slicing straight through his eardrums painfully. It was freezing out, winter had arrived in full-force, and Hermione was playing cheerleader for her House. Ever since Hermione became Head of House for Gryffindor, she had definitely become more enthused by Quidditch.

Glancing over at her, he couldn't help but be amused. She was still so young, her twenty-third birthday had just passed, and she looked distinctly youthful in winter wear. She wore a grey peacoat with two rows of buttons, a knitted cap pulled down over her wild hair, and a red and gold striped scarf tied around her neck. She clapped her mitten-clad hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet.

Sitting on the other side of Severus was none other than McGonagall, who was grinning slightly. The other professors were all sitting, clapping when appropriate, but none were as enthusiastic as Hermione.

"She certainly possesses a great sense of Gryffindor pride," McGonagall commented under her breath to Severus.

"It's absolutely unbearable," he remarked lowly, but McGonagall just chuckled and continued to watch the match.

"MERLIN! SEVERUS, DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?" Hermione demanded shrilly, shaking the potions master by his shoulders. "DID YOU SEE SHAWN BLOCK GREENWOOD FROM SCORING?!"

A few other teachers giggled at the scene Hermione was making, reminding many of them when they were her age.

Severus said with an eye roll, "Yes, Hermione, I saw your Gryffindor prevent the Ravenclaw from scoring. It was... impressive."

"More than impressive! It was brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed, dropping down onto the bench, smiling like a madwoman, and watching the game in rapture. "Gryffindor will with the House Cup this year for sure!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Severus intoned. "My own House has been doing quite well this season."

"Oh, big deal, they beat the Hufflepuffs," Hermione huffed, rolling her own eyes. "Wait until they face Gryffindor, just you wait. They won't know what's coming. It will be a blood bath." There was a scary amount of mischief in her eyes.

Severus turned to McGonagall. "Perhaps it would be beneficial to ban Hermione from Quidditch matches from now until the end of the season."

"No!" Hermione said quickly. "You can't do that! My team needs me!"

McGonagall only smiled. "Severus, I cannot ban a teacher from attending Quidditch matches simply because of her... excitement for the sport."

"She only has an excitement for her House winning," Severus corrected. "She could care less about the sport itself. Hermione, name five of the most popular fouls in Quidditch."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I've got no bloody clue."

"Some things never change," Severus said.

"It's not as if the fouls matter."

Severus looked at her bluntly. "There would be no game if not for the fouls."

"Severus. You throw balls through hoops. Muggles do it all the time. It's hardly complex."

"Then, pray tell, why can't you play it."

Hermione's face dropped into a frown. "I'm lousy on a broom. And heights scare me."

"This coming from the girl who flew a dragon by way of escaping a robbery at Gringotts."

"It wasn't as if there was any other way!" Hermione defended quickly. "What would you have done?"

"I would not have broken into a bank in the first place," Severus pointed out. "I'd have left Potter to fix his own problems."

McGonagall shook her head and said, "Severus..."

"It's true."

"We know it is," Hermione said with a light glare. "Trust me, we know." The her eyes got caught of something happening on the pitch. "THAT'S NOT ALLOWED! I MAY NOT NO MUCH ABOUT FOULS, BUT THAT DEFINITELY SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED!"

"Unfortunately for you, it actually is," Severus reported with dry satisfaction.

"RUBBISH! MADAME HOOCH, I WANT TO HAVE A TALK TO YOU ABOUT THIS!" she screamed out to the Quidditch coach flying around the pitch, refereeing.

"Hermione, the rules aren't going to change simply because you are dissatisfied," Severus told her with a firm look.

"Well," Hermione said with pursed lips, "we'll just see about that."

...~oOo~...

During somewhere halfway through the game, the rain and hail started coming down like bullets. Not that that deterred Hermione's cheering even in the slightest, but her lips turned blue and she was shivering because she wanted to be right up against the game, out from under the awning.

Once the game concluded and Hermione was thoroughly drenched, Severus took hold of her wrist and dragged her all the way back into the castle and to his chambers. During his pulling, he went on and on about how foolish she was for not keeping dry and for ignoring his commands to get under the overhanging.

In his chambers, he flicked his wand to start a fire and forced her into his bathroom. "You will shower, you will undress, and you will call for me when you are warm once more," he said tersely.

Scowling, hermione snapped, "You can't just yank me about like I'm a puppy who's been naughty, Severus!"

"Do as I say, before you catch your death," he hissed back, trying to close her into the bathroom.

"I'm a witch for Merlin's sake! I'll just cast a Drying Charm and be done with it!" She pushed back on the door.

"Drying Charms are not enough to prevent illness after so much time in the cold and wet weather," he half-growled. "Just take the bath and dry off!" With a final push, he slammed the door and locked it hastily.

Huffing in frustration for being treated like a child - again - she considered kicking the door and yelling until he let her out. Then she remembered she had a wand and considered just unlocking the door - or blowing it off - and then realized... a hot bath sounded wonderful.

Only minutes later, Hermione was steeping in the tub filled with delightfully warm water, melting her from the inside out, and chasing away the chill that the rain had left. Closing her eyes, and tipping her head back, and took a deep breath and released it on a sigh. This was the closest to heaven she'd ever felt.

Until she heard, "Psst. Hermione."

Her eyes whipped open and she looked to the source. Sitting next to the tub, cross-legged was... Bill.

Suddenly rigid, Hermione looked around the room. The door was still securely shut. Finally, she said, "You better be a hallucination."

"No worries, I am," Bill assured her with that smile of his.

Hermione sighed in relief. "Good. I mean, not 'good' because I'm hallucinating, but good because I really couldn't handle the Real you right now. It would sort of... set me back."

"Set you back?" Bill inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know, from moving on."

"It's been more than three years, almost four, since we've even seen one another," he pointed out.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "Yes, Hallucination Bill, I know, I'm pathetic, alright? I just... I miss you."

Bill's beautiful blue eyes glittered with sincerity as he said, "I miss you too."

Hermione scoffed, her eyes burning. His voice was exactly how she remembered. "You're only saying that because you're a figment born from my subconscious and I want desperately to hear you say it."

"There will always be a piece of me that loves you, Hermione," he promised.

"You're getting married," Hermione said, bending her knees up towards her chest and resting her arms across them. "Molly told me. You have a fiancee."

Bill nodded. "And I love her very much. I've moved on, and now you must as well."

"What do you mean?" she asked, wiping furiously at the tears trying to escape. "I am, aren't I? I haven't written you, no matter how much I want to. I'm doing really well at my job. I haven't dreamt about in a whole month. Isn't that progress?"

"You're doing wonderfully, darling," he told her soothingly.

"Don't call me that," she said, her heart wrenching. "It hurts too much."

Bill nodded and said, "Hermione, I mean that you need to start, you know, dating. I think you can do it."

"I've been through this a thousand times with a dozen different people," Hermione said with exasperation. "I can't be with anyone. I just... can't."

"Yes, you can," he told her with certainty. "I have faith in you." He moved onto his knees and reached out to touch Hermione's head. The thing about Hallucinations was that they were so real, in every way. She could even feel the heaviness of his hand on her hair. "I have to go, now."

"No," Hermione said quickly, taking hold of his wrist. "No, Bill, please don't go. Please. I need you here. Even though you're not Real, and I know that, I want you here." Squeezing her eyes of their tears, she said, "I want... I want to go back to our months at Shell Cottage. I miss our Muggle film nights and ordering in pizza and having picnics on the beach. I want to go back and change everything."

Bill smiled and said, "No, Hermione. You don't. Do you know why you think you want to go back to Shell Cottage? Because you felt safe there. You didn't have to take chances. You want me because I'm a safety net. By keeping me, even as a hallucination, you won't ever feel the need to put yourself out there and continue to feel secure in denying the feelings you have for someone else." He bent forward and kissed her forehead.

She knew right away who he was talking about. "Bill, he won't love me back. And I don't want to burden him with knowing how I feel. If I had just... not been so stupid, then we could have been together and I could have avoided this huge mess."

"You miss the simplicity of 'us'," he said, nodding. "You don't miss _me_."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You... might be right."

"Of course I am, darling," he said, still smiling.

This time she didn't rebuke him, because she knew he would be disappearing very soon. "How do... I tell him?" she asked.

"You'll know when and how," Bill said. "I know you will. Our timing was wrong, but with him it will be right. You're older now. You're healthier. And he'd be an idiot not to see how incredible you are." He ran his hand down her hair and then whispered, "Now. Close your eyes, count to three, and when you open them... this will have been only another dream."

Hermione did as he said, and when she opened her eyes he was gone. And for some strange reason, she knew that that would be the last time she saw Hallucination Bill.

Wrapping her wet arms around her chest, Hermione gave herself exactly ten seconds to cry before scrubbing her tears away and dunking her head into the water.

It was amazing what a bath could do to clear the mind.

...~oOo~...

Severus was sitting in his arm chair, waiting for Hermione's call from the bathroom and glancing at the clock when he heard footsteps enter the sitting room and turned to find Hermione, wrapped in a towel, with her curly hair piled in a messy bun atop her head, looking... absently thoughtful.

When Severus raised an eyebrow, she said, "You left my wand with me. Keeping me captive isn't exactly effective when you haven't confiscated my wand."

"Good point," he said slowly, observing her strangely blank expression. "Is... everything alright?"

Hermione, drops of water still rolling down her arms, said, "I think... I'm ready to start taking my potions again. For real. And not just saying that I have to get you off my back."

"So... you've been lying to me about taking them," he said.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry."

"What's made you change your mind?" he inquired.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I need to... get better if I ever want to... have a normal relationship."

"You keep friendships just fine," he said.

"No, I mean a romantic relationship," she said on a gush of breath. "I need to be stable enough to... move on."

"Move on from Weasley, you mean," he clarified.

She nodded. "I know it's been a long time, but I guess I've sort of been hanging onto him because doing so means I don't have to... find someone else. He's been my ongoing excuse to myself for almost four years. It's time to grow up."

"Now I'm very curious," Severus said, his jaw tightening in the slightest. "Is there a certain young wizard who has caught your eye?"

Hiding a smirk, Hermione shook her head. "No. No young wizard."

Actually, a wizard twenty years her senior. And he was sitting right across the room from her.

Hermione was scared, yes. Taking potions would mean she would be left to her own thoughts without disruption which was dangerous, she admitted. It would mean going on and no longer having excuses to remain secluded.

And eventually, it would mean admitting to Severus her feelings for him, which would most assuredly end in disaster.

She figured that in order to move on from Bill, she would have to confess to Severus, and then to get over from Severus she would just have to try to find someone knew. She was trying to be optimistic that the rest of her life would be more than just a pattern of pain and heartbreak.

And maybe, in the end, Hermione would die alone. But she wouldn't know until she tried.

...~oOo~...

Draping a blanket over Hermione's sleeping body, Severus considered carrying her to the Floo and bringing her to her own chambers, but decided against it. He told himself it was because didn't want to wake her up. In reality, though, he didn't want her to leave.

He did lift her to place her in his bedroom, though. He placed her down onto the comforters gently.

It took her a long few minutes to tear his eyes away from her peaceful sleeping face and retreat to his sitting room and lie across the couch.

He didn't sleep a wink.

...~oOo~...

**"I won't die alone and be left there.**

**Well I guess I'll just go home,**

**Oh God knows where.**

**Because death is just so full and man so small.**

**Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before."**

**~ Mumford & Sons**

Challenge: 1. Favorite part and line? 2. What do you want to see happen in the next chapter? 3. How do you think actually taking her medication will change Hermione?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	5. Chapter 5

A/N. Hello, everyone! I'm ashamed in the delay of this update, I really am. My only excuse is that I became consumed with The Trick of Time and Holiday - both of which are still ongoing - and I had my baby, so life has been crazy!

This is the next phase in Hermione and Severus's "change". I believe there is a sort of lingering gap between friendship, attraction, and love - this gap is where the choice to be a friend with someone becomes a need. A reliance forms, the thickening of a bond. Hermione had relied on Severus heavily in the past - but has Severus ever strictly relied on Hermione? Not until now.

My mother always said that you know that you're in love when departing is a physical ache and can bring you to tears. It's not dependancy - it's just a deep sort of longing and missing.

Also - a lot of you were wondering at the end of Prisoner why Harry's son didn't know who Hermione was. This chapter explains how Hermione became a stranger to her best friend's children.

...~oOo~...

"Severus, are you listening?"

"Mmm." His quill scratched on the parchment loudly.

"Are you paying attention to what I'm saying?"

"I assure you, Hermione, that every iota of my attention is focused solely on you." Yet he never lifted his gaze from the parchment.

"Doesn't seem it."

"Hermione, I couldn't possibly ignore you if I wanted to. Not by lack of will, because I've tried. You just have an undeniable talent for stealing one's attention and holding it captive. So, please, tell me whatever it is you have to say so I can get back to these papers before my hair goes grey."

His dry tone no longer intimidated Hermione, and having gotten over the effects his derision had on most gave her the ability to notice the most subtle inflections in an otherwise inflection-less drawl. For example, to the untrained ear this previous statement could be construed as annoyed, bored, uninterested, or even a big angry - as most of what he said. But to Hermione, she could beyond that and hear the very slightest tinge of amusement and attentiveness. Despite his cynicism, he was actually listening to her.

Hermione blinked a few times, trading a stare with Severus who had finally drawn his head up from the paper.

"Never mind," she said with a shrug, looking back down at the black expanse of heavy cloth in front of her and began to fold.

Severus huffed, actually annoyed now. "Hermione," he said slowly and firmly.

"It's just... I wanted to tell you..." Hermione said tentatively, drawing up his teaching robe to her chest, "that I just... I love your buttons."

"You love to push them, is what you love. Now, honestly."

"No, really. That's what I wanted to tell you."

They stared again. Severus had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation. He set down his quill, folded his hands in front of him on his desk, and looked over to where Hermione sat in his chambers at the sofa with a basket of his laundry in front of her.

Normally a house-elf would do his laundry, but Hermione had taken to doing his the Muggle way. Severus, though he'd never admit it, secretly preferred this for two reasons. One, for some reason when Hermione washed his clothes they always came out softer. And two, it was just... nice. She would always fold in his sitting room, meaning they spent more time together, and the incentive made the space feel a little more like home.

Strange, yes.

Taking his risen eyebrow as cue to further her explanation, Hermione went on, "It's just... in school it sort of boggled me, you know. I mean, there are so many! And so many layers of buttons too. I just could not imagine what your morning and evening routines must be like. I had this mental image of you standing in a mirror, doing every single last one of these infuriating buttons up and unfastening them, all in the same day. A huge chunk of every day of your life, stolen by... buttons!

"Do you know how many buttons are on your robes, Severus?" she asked with wide eyes.

Severus said nothing.

"Thirty on your outer cloak alone!" she announced with fervor. "And that's just on your everyday robe! I didn't even bother counting the one you use for dueling. The thirty buttons of your robe, added with the standard eight buttons on an Oxford shirt, plus two on the cuffs making ten, the single button on your trousers, makes a grand total of approximately forty-one buttons!"

Hermione continued, animatedly. "I ran a quick mental equation and came to the conclusion that at the end of your life, an entire eighth of it will have been spent buttoning and unbuttoning your robes! That's just... it's preposterous!"

Severus was fighting a smile. Hermione couldn't see it, but it was taking all of his willpower not to smirk. The girl was definitely... something.

"And, finally, I realize... that I was being ridiculous." Hermione looked at Severus intently. "And do you know why I realized I was being ridiculous?"

"Because you were?" Severus ventured.

"No," Hermione said with a triumphant sort of grin. "It's because you are brilliant. So brilliant that you've _created_ a multitude of helpful spells. So of course you would have invented a spell, especially for undoing your buttons! It all made sense. So now I sort of have a respect for your buttons I never had before - whereas they used to be this symbol of tedious dressing and undressing, they're like magic all their own."

"I didn't."

Hermione's grin dropped. "Pardon?"

"I didn't create a spell to unfasten the buttons on my robes."

Hermione blinked. "But - then - I - what do you do?!" she demanded, exasperated.

"Manually," he reported.

Hermione cleared her throat lightly. "Have you ever thought to create a spell to do the buttons?"

"No. That just seems... lazy," he told her honestly, leaning back a little in his seat. He had been wrong about this conversation - it was turning out to be more entertaining than he could have guessed.

"Do you ever unbutton the top half and draw it over your head?" she asked, leaning forward with curiosity.

"Where does your sudden fascination with how I get undressed come from?"

Hermione blushed and her lips were pressed tight. Severus, still fighting off a smile, allowed a twitch of his lip, shifting his features very little.

"Curious," was all Hermione said. She coughed quietly and stared at his robes with a new derision. "Perhaps if I timed myself, I could multiply that by days in a work week, double it for morning and night, adding a variable for number of showers you take a day, a coefficient for -"

Severus held up a hand and Hermione stopped short on her tirade.

"If laundering my clothes is giving you this much of a complex, perhaps you should pass the task back onto the house-elves -"

"No!" Hermione said abruptly, hugging the laundry basket to her chest possessively. "I'm fine! I promise not to create equations based on your clothes any longer, alright?"

Severus gave a satisfied nod and returned to his papers.

They continued on in companionable silence. Though Severus's attention was only partially on the students' papers, the rest was on Hermione. He could hear her humming quietly and knew that she was carrying on with her infernal number problems in her head, all the while systematically folding his clothes and putting them in neat, organized piles.

The only problem with Hermione's fondness for equations and numbers was that she became obsessed very easily - a souvenir from the incident those years ago. One of the symptoms of her fragile mental state.

Still humming, Hermione wordlessly rose with the laundry basket and his piles of clothes, sauntered into his bedroom. He listened to the dry sound of sliding wood drawers as she put away his things, then closing them and returning to the sitting room.

It was only moments before she was standing directly behind him, looking down at the essay he'd been staring at blankly for the past twenty minutes. He was ready to give it a two out a ten and be done with it, but now that Hermione was watching, he knew she'd kick up a fuss about it.

"That 'who' should be 'whom'," she told him, pointing to the third line.

"Do you mind?" he inquired shortly.

"Not at all," she said with a sweet smile. "I have to go though. I have papers of my own to mark."

Something internal made Severus say, "Wouldn't you like some tea?"

"No, thank you," she said politely.

"You can put on the radio, if you'd like," he said, even though he despised the radio and had not a single idea as to why she'd bought him one for his last birthday.

Hermione paused. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Are you trying to ask me to stay?"

Damn, he'd nearly forgotten how blasted insightful she was. But how could he have? She was constantly flaunting her cleverness. "No, just attempting to be an acceptable host."

Hermione smirked knowingly and perched her chin on his shoulder, her hand resting on the other. "I think I'd like some tea after all."

If any other person touched him in such a way, he'd have probably spun into a blind fury, but it was Hermione. And his hands and cheek were so warm, as was her breath, and it was... nice. The same sort of nice it was when she folded his robes. The kind of nice that made it feel like home.

...~oOo~...

Apparently, there'd been some kind of disaster that brought the lunch date between Hermione and her friends to an end. Severus knew none of it until McGonagall Floo'd him, telling him that Hermione was having an episode in the Infirmary. Dropping the parchment he'd been holding, and tossing aside his quill, Severus swept out of his chambers to move quickly up through the dungeon and to the hospital wing.

When he entered, he took inventory of exactly what was happening. Hermione was shouting and had thrown some stuff, and it was taking Madame Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Professor Sprout to sort of box her into the bed, trying to get her to calm down and sit still. The curtains were drawn around her bed, but through them Severus saw it all quite clearly.

It had been quite a while since Hermione worked herself up to such an episode. she only ever relapsed under extreme stress, and even then the worst it got was a conversation with one of her decorative figurines. But she was freaking out. Something was very wrong.

Severus tore open the curtain to find Hermione rolling back and forth on the cot, tears streaming down her face even as her eyes were squeezed shut as she smacked away every hand that came towards her. Pomona Sprout was stroking her hair, hushing at her gently while Poppy was trying her absolutely hardest to get a potion down her throat.

Minerva, upon seeing Severus's arrival, quickly went towards him, carefully tugging him out of the space and closing the curtain behind them.

"What the hell happened?" Severus growled, ready to assign blame where it was due.

Minerva was shaking her head. "No one is completely sure. Potter and Weasley came through about twenty minutes ago, saying that something happened during their lunch that triggered this... this situation."

"This doesn't make any sense," Severus hissed, fury boiling in his chest. "She has been punctual and consistent with all of her daily potions. She had been the most normal I've seen her in years. There is something those idiots _Potter_ and _Weasley_ are not telling us." He spat their names and in his mind imagined a thousand ways he could exact revenge.

"Severus," Minerva snapped. "They want the best for her, as do you. There is no reason why they'd withhold information that could be critical in setting Hermione back on an even keel. If you are so suspicious, Draco is only an owl away.

"Now, as far as Hermione's potions regiment... Is there any possibility that she's been... how do I say this... skimping? Maybe skipping a day or two?"

"Are you implying Hermione would lie?" Severus demanded venomously. If looks could kill...

"Severus Snape, I will thank you to stop looking and speaking to me like I am the enemy," Minerva said sharply. "Now, if you're positive she's been doing will with her medications, you may return to your chambers."

"I will, after I've seen her," Severus said curtly, striding towards the curtain once more. Minerva caught the back of his robes.

"Now is not the best time," Minerva said.

Severus ripped away from her grip, putting as much loathing her could manage in his sneer, and then continued to slip between the curtain.

He wasn't about to admit it to Minerva, he needed to see Hermione. He wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise, and he needed to know she was alright.

Poppy looked absolutely exhausted, a bottle in her hand. Pomona was still stroking Hermione's hair, looking mournful. Hermione was lying on her stomach, face in her pillow, and sobbing very loudly, her body shaking.

"You're doing it wrong," Severus growled, taking the bottle away from Poppy.

Poppy was aghast. "How dare -"

"When she's out of control, she won't drink it willingly and if you continue shoving it at her mouth, all you'll do it make a mess," Severus told her. The medical kit by her bed was open. He rustled through it and plucked out what he wanted. A pipet. He stuck the instrument into the bottle and filled it to the top.

Leaning down, Severus reached under Hermione's neck and forced her head to turn upward. He was being as gentle as he could be, but she wasn't making it easy. Lifting her upper lip with his thumb, he poked the pipet through the gap and through the small space between her teeth and squeezed the top of it.

Hermione gagged on the liquid, shaking her head and getting ready to turn and spit it out, but Severus held her chin in his large hand, keeping her mouth shut.

"Swallow," he commanded, giving her a look that meant no-nonsense. He stroked her throat, making it all go down, knowing that she hated the taste and the thickness of the potion. It was unpleasant to drink, but he'd mastered this sort of thing with Hermione.

Once the calming effects of the potion soaked in, Hermione stopped struggling and fell into Severus's chest, clutching his robes and sobbing into his shirt.

Severus imperiously gestured for the other women in the room to leave, sending them more no-nonsense looks. After a brief hesitation, they obeyed.

Sitting on the bed, Hermione maneuvered herself into his lap, holding on for dear life.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Hermione just shook her head and whispered, "Never... I never... want to see them again."

Severus's grip on her tightened instinctively as his hands balled into fists. "What did they do to you?" he growled.

She was shaking her head. "Nothing... they did nothing. They d-don't deserve this... Me. I don't d-deserve th-them. I'm too much of a burden."

"Hermione, if they did anything to make you think -"

From her chest wrenched a heartbreaking whimper of a noise. "Nothing. They did nothing. It's all my fault. Tell me I don't have to see them again."

"You do not have to do anything you do not want to," Severus said slowly. "But -"

"Please," she whispered. "I don't want to. Ever."

"Alright, Hermione," Severus said with a quiet sigh. "Alright."

And that fateful lunch was the last time Hermione spoke to Harry and Ron for over a decade.

...~oOo~...

Challenge: 1. Favorite part and line? 2. What do you think is the next step in Hermione and Severus's "change"? 3. While I will never reveal exactly what happened at that lunch, what do you think is the reason Hermione lost it?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	6. Chapter 6

A/N. I missed Severus & Hermione, I really did. I keep thinking about this fic, and I don't think I'll be able to get really into my others until I finish this one. I owe it to Sev and Mione!

Again, as a reminder, these chapters are close together chronologically. Think of them as one-shots. Steps in Hermione and Severus's relationship.

There will be a part 2 to this chapter though - you'll see why.

...~oOo~...

"Ten points from Hufflepuff!"

Half of the class groaned, while the more egotistical Ravenclaws sniggered on their side. Those dawned in yellow and coal watched on with big eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

"But... why?" one of the more brazen of the badger house asked, completely perplexed. They'd all just been sitting there, copying down the notes being scrawled on the board by their professor when the deduction was made. Their professor's back had been to them the whole time, even if they had done something wrong!

They all looked around eagerly for some kind of reason why they were being punished.

"No reason, I just felt like it," Professor Granger said, spinning around from the board with a smile. "Well, that and the fact that Mr. MacDonald and Miss Smith are playing footsie in the back."

Everyone spun around to look at the two blushing Hufflepuffs, the boys murmuring something like, "_How did she even know_?"

"I have eves everywhere," Hermione told them with a knowing smile. "Even when my back is turned and you are all the way in the back, shielded by rows and rows of other students - I will always know. Now, I will thank you to keep your adorably silly foot games out of my classroom."

"Yes, Professor," the boy and girl said, chagrinned.

"The best to both of you," Hermione said with a sudden sincereness that confused everyone.

Then, to everyone's surprise - including Hermione's, who just claimed to be all-knowing - a gale of black robes and miserable sneering swooped into the room, slamming the door open and striding to the front of the classroom, ignoring all the looks he was getting from the idiots he unfortunately had to call his students. Severus Snape looked infuriated, his expression colder than ever before.

"Er... Professor?" Hermione said questioningly.

He said nothing until he was right beside her and ducked down to whisper harshly in her ear, "I need you."

Hermione flushed. It was rare Severus Snape ever claimed to need anything from anyone. "Uh... I'm teaching."

"This is an emergency and it cannot wait," he hissed urgently.

"A-alright," Hermione said uncertainly. She cleared her throat and turned to her students, who were all whispering and fidgeting in the presence of their Potions Master. "Congratulations, you all get half of an hour free. Consider is a Valentine's gift. Class dismissed."

Most of them were eager to go, others more slow in their confusion, hesitant to leave before they knew why Snape had arrived so abruptly.

"What exactly happened?" Hermione asked once her students were gone.

Severus shook his head, his frown deepening. "You have to see it for yourself." He seized her hand and promptly began dragging her from the room, holding onto her all the way until they were in the dungeons and outside his classroom. "Stay alert," he warned her as he slowly opened the door.

Inside the dismal, dark potions classroom was an alarmingly generous amount of... pink. Pink hearts were on the walls, little paper butterflies flitting everywhere, pink roses winding up his desk, and just... a lot of pink.

"Oh, my..." Hermione uttered at the sight. "This is certainly... unconventional for you, Severus. I never knew you held such a fondness for Valentine's Day."

"I don't," he growled snidely. "It is the most pathetic excuse for a holiday in the history of man and wizard-kind. I wish to strip my classroom of all this... _rubbish_... but it won't come off."

"You don't think the house-elves...?"

"They have been under strict orders since the beginning of my career here to never set foot in my rooms," he said sharply and with conviction. "This was done by a student. Likely a Gryffindor."

"Don't be so hasty to blame the Gryffindors," Hermione chided gently, moving to take a step forward over the threshold. "It could very well have been Peeves. Be practical."

"I am practical, I just - _watch out_!"

Without warning, Severus snatched Hermione around the waist and dragged her back out. And she saw why. Little arrows descended into the space she'd just been moments before. They were tiny, harmless arrows, but Hermione knew the culprits.

"Someone put Cupids in your room?"

Severus grimly nodded.

Cupids, distantly related to the pixie, were pesky little fairy-creatures that shot tiny spikes at people. These spikes, or "arrows", injected a small dose of poison that caused an increase of endorphins, lowered inhibitions, and, allegedly, made you find your one true love. The last thing was probably an urban myth, but there was no denying that Cupid poison made you do and say some stupid things.

Taken in large quantities, it can be addictive, and the marketing of it is strictly monitored and sometimes illegal.

"So... why is it that you need my help?"

"I need to get them out," he said with his usual sneer. "But I am unsure how to do so without killing the beasts and McGonagall gave me express orders to evict them... humanely."

"And why would I be helpful in this?"

"You have infinitely more patience," he snapped. "Why do you think?"

"Calm down, Severus," she said soothingly, patting his rigid shoulder. "We'll figure something out. We could set out traps?"

"Or kill them."

"Or immobilize them."

"Or kill them."

...

It took a full hour to find the hiding places of every last Cupid and paralyze temporarily them before putting them in a rather large jar. Hermione made sure that there were holes in the lid, because she knew Severus too well.

And then there were the decorations. All were all put up with a powerful adhesive spell. It wasn't easy as ripping them off, that was for sure. Most of them left behind pinkish residue that had Severus snarling and blasting the walls with abandon. Whoever was responsible for this should be saying their prayers.

Once they looked around and found the room to be clean of any frivolity and back to its usual desolate oppression, it was silent for a long moment.

"I... appreciate your assistance," Severus said slowly.

"No problem," Hermione said with a big smile. It was the kind of smile that tugged at something in Severus's chest - something that he preferred to ignore and tried to forget about as often as possible. "I'm actually grateful for a break in classes today."

"Are the students more unmanageable than usual?"

"No, it just makes me... a little melancholy, is all," Hermione said simply with a shrug.

"Why is that?"

"I never had a sweetheart in school, a teenage romance that I can reflect fondly on," Hermione admitted. "I guess I'm a little jealous."

"You had Weasley, didn't you?" he said with very obvious disdain.

"If you're talking about Ron, then not really. And Bill was after school," she explained. "I just wish I had that person from when I was young that I could think back on and dream about the 'what ifs'..." Hermione said with a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Coming from someone who had that sort of person to think back on, I'd say you're better off," he said shortly. "Now, come along. It's nearly lunchtime and you're reminding me rather disturbingly of Miss Lovegood."

Hermione was about to follow Severus out when she felt a sharp pinch on her back. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, reaching behind and feeling for the spot. And when she found it, she pulled out of her skin and shirt a tiny, sharp prong.

Severus's eyes whipped towards where it came from, baring his wand and immobilizing the creature, which had apparently been biding its time. He stuffed it angrily in the jar, wishing he could do worse to it.

"Hermione, are you alright? Do you have any sudden urges to take a Portkey to Egypt?" he asked tentatively. She had a weird sort of smile on her face. A soft, genuine smile, almost shy. It worried him greatly.

"Not really," she said serenely. "I love Valentine's Day, Severus. Don't you love Valentine's Day?"

"I do not. I thought I made that quite clear."

"I love it because... it just... it makes me feel so light and smiley and excited, you know? It makes me want to take a leap of faith, you know?"

"That would be the Cupid poison. You sit and I'll find the antidote."

"I don't want the antidote," she said.

Severus grew more and more worried as Hermione walked forward and didn't stop until she was obscenely close to him. Their chest brushed and she was looking up at him with that weird smile while he was trying very hard not to breathe in. Hermione smelt very nice, he knew from experience.

"Well, I certainly can't trust you running around with Cupid poison in your body, you're strange enough as it is," he said, hoping to sound scathing. "Your students won't be able to handle you, much less myself."

"Severus, can I ask you a question?"

Oh, dear. This was going to end badly, he could feel it. He swallowed. "I suppose..."

"Do you think I'm pretty?

Quirking an eyebrow, Severus asked, "How is that relevant?"

"It isn't, I just want to know," she said simply. "Not a lot of people find me pretty. I wanted to know if you did."

"Hermione, I am sure a great number of young men find you attractive -"

"I'm not asking if a 'great number of young men' find me attractive, I'm asking if _you_ do."

"This isn't appropriate, Hermione. In the past we've discussed the boundaries of a collegial relationship, and you've insisted on pushing those boundaries before, but right now you are under the influence of a very evil poison and if you would _get away from me_, I could find you the damned antidote!" he said, his voice getting sharper and louder with every word.

Even then, his snarl did nothing to intimidate her.

And instead of cowering and sniffling away like most would, Hermione stretched up on her toes and touched her mouth to his.

Everything stopped. Severus's eyes were gigantic - he was rarely caught off guard, but this was... this was... This was insane. Mad. So wrong that he almost shoved her off of him and forbade her from entering his domain ever again.

But she was so, peculiarly... soft. Just her lips. Soft.

The kiss was almost chaste and when Hermione pulled back once more, she braced herself for some kind of explosion.

Instead of berating her and screaming down the castle, Severus turned around, walking into his storage closet, rustled around for a moment, before emerging. He walked up to Hermione, took her chin in his large hand, manually opened her mouth, and poured a reddish potion down her throat. It tasted like spearmint and mud, making Hermione grimace and gag a little.

But once swallowed, that fuzzy, light feeling faded, along with the pleasant rush. She blinked furiously and the shame crept up on her with all the subtlety of an ambush.

With a taut jaw and dark eyes, Severus pointed to the door of his classroom. "Lunch. _Now_."

Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes burning. The rejection cut deep. He was obviously angry and was barely containing it, and she appreciated that he was making the effort to remain calm. Normally he would just lash out and make sure one felt the size of a spec of dust. But Hermione was different, and she loved that. She liked knowing that something about her protected her from most of his wrath... but obviously that didn't meant what she thought it did.

To him, she was still a child that needed to be watched over and disciplined. But to her, he was her hero. And she cared for him.

He didn't.

Before she could leave, shuffling away with her tail between her legs, she threw her arms around him for a two-second-long hug, yanking away before he could and walking out.

...~oOo~...

It was times like these that Hermione wished she had friends other than Severus. She was usually comfortable, having just one, because it was easy. To be close friends with multiple people seemed difficult, because it meant crowds. Hermione still didn't do well in crowds, even though it'd been years since her incident. The potions she took daily worked well enough, but as everyone knew, she just wasn't the same.

But because of her quirks, Hermione had destroyed her friendship with Harry and Ron, and in doing so isolated herself to Severus. But now that she had destroyed her friendship with Severus, she was... alone. Literally.

She sat in her chambers, in her sitting room, curled up on her fluffy red chair near the fire. She hadn't gone to lunch like Severus had instructed - she was too embarrassed. Irrationally, she imagined walking into the Great Hall and everyone staring at her because they knew what she did. Even though she knew this was silly, she still cowered in her rooms, hoping that no one noticed her absence.

She never wanted to heave her chambers ever again.

Hermione thought back to her poison-induced euphoria and the high that she'd felt when she pressed her mouth to Severus's. It'd been so wonderful, soft, nice, and the thrill that he hadn't pushed her off of it... But then she saw his face. The taut jaw, the dark eyes, the pressed lips.

Yeah. Hermione was never going to be able to face him again.

"I am going to die in this room," she groaned, sinking deeper into the chair.

No Harry and Ron. No Bill. No Severus. And no hallucinations.

The quiet and solitude was almost overwhelming.

Hermione had succeeded in pushing everyone out of her life. Even the figments of her imagination.

For the remainder of Valentine's Day, Hermione cancelled her noon and evening classes, chose a book, poured some wine, and sat in front of the fire, pathetically and tragically alone.

...~oOo~...

Challenge: 1. Favorite part and line? 2. What does Snape do for the rest of V-Day? 3. What will happen next?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


End file.
